


#Clexaweek2017 - Strangers In Bathrooms

by potatogestapo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Am I even allowed to post things I've written after staying up for more than 24 hours?, Anya isn't actually mentioned by name but she's in here, Bathroom Sex, Clarke is a smol gay, Clarke is stressed and horny, F/F, How are Lexa's fingers that long, Is there a law against that?, Lesbian Sex, Lexa is a smoking gay, Lexa is sexy as fuck, POV Clarke, Raven is drunk and carefree, Shameless Smut, Smut, That made it sound like something wild was going to happen, They basically stare at each other all night, Wall Sex, and super into Clarke, but not the way you think, i think, idk I'm just so tired, it will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10049285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatogestapo/pseuds/potatogestapo
Summary: #Clexaweek2017 - Day 3: Stuck Together (posted a little late, but who cares right)Clarke is overworked and tired, but forces herself to meet up with her coworkers/friends at the bar after work. All she really wants to do is go home to her couch and Netflix, and not have to deal with Finn and Bellamy's annoying attempts at flirting with her. And as if that's not enough, a snow storm leaves them stranded at the bar.Can a smoking hot stranger brighten up her night?orClarke and Lexa meet at a bar, and there's enough sexual tension to cut through with a knife. Hot bathroom sex ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So guess who decided it was a great idea to stay up until 9am to post this shitty story that she wrote because she couldn't sleep. Good guess, it's me.  
> No betas involved, seeing as I don't have one, and if I did they'd probably be asleep or on their way to work by the time I finished this. Also I'm never patient enough to thoroughly reread and double check grammar before posting, so let me know if you find any inconsistencies (is that even how you write the word? I should not be allowed to write English when I'm this tired).
> 
> Let me know what you think!

“Clarke! Where the fuck were you?” 

Raven’s drunk, she can tell that much. Her brace knocks against a few bar stools as she stumbles her way over, two beers in hand, and Clarke can faintly make out a wet stain on her black jeans from where she probably spilled her drink on them. Whether it was from said beers in her hands or from one of probably more than a few she’s already had, she can’t know for sure. She suppresses a sigh and barely manages to plaster on a smile before Raven stumbles into her, beer sloshing in the glasses as she throws her arms around Clarke in a hug.

“Sorry, my car got snowed in, had to call an uber,” She cringes as a few droplets spill onto her neck and drip down and into her cleavage. “It’s all but impossible in this weather.” 

She’s already freezing from having to walk the last two blocks – her uber driver gave up on trying to get any further with the amount of snow piling up in the streets – and her shoes are all but killing her feet, numb and soaking wet as they are.

“Fuck, that sounds bad.” Raven sympathizes, nudging her in the elbow for good measure. A second later her empathy is forgotten, and drunk Raven is back.  
“Here, I got you a beer!” She all but shouts in Clarke’s ear over the relatively low music playing, words slurring slightly as she shoves one of the glasses into her hand. 

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for not handing my ass on a platter to Kane after that fuck up last month.” She grins sheepishly.

Clarke chuckles, taking a hearty drink of the ice cold brew before setting it down on the sticky bar that runs along the full length of the rather spacious room. The bar isn’t all too bad, but it’s not particularly nice either; several booths with leather seating line the walls of the rectangular space, and smaller tables are spread out across the room, almost all of them occupied with people in various states of inebriation.

“No worries, Reyes. You might be awful at keeping your mouth shut around clients, but I need your ass to stay where it is. No one can work a website quite like you do.” She shoves Raven lightly on the shoulder, and the brunette’s grin matches hers for a couple of seconds before she turns to face Clarke fully with a determined expression. Well, at least as determined as one can look when this drunk. _Seriously, how much has she had to drink?_

“Now, _Miss Griffin, Princess, Your Highness_ , if you would do me the honors of getting royally drunk with me!” she states dramatically, lifting her beer high above her head in a gesture of salutation, earning quite a few glances from the other guests. Clarke rolls her eyes at her and clinks their glasses together, feeling the guilt creep up on her for Raven for the impending disappointment she’ll have to put her through. She watches her friend as the girl downs most of her beer in one go, Clarke gingerly sipping her own, before setting it down and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Sorry, Rae, I think I’ll stick to just one beer tonight. Not really feeling it, I guess”

The offended scoff at her words only enhances her exhaustion from her long day, and she misses her couch just a _little bit more_ as she rubs a palm across her still cold face.

“ _What_? Clarke, you’re kidding me, right? This is the first time you’ve come out with us in _months_! You can’t tell me you’re bailing on us already?” 

Raven shakes her head, brown eyes boring into Clarke and silently hacking away at her resolve, until the blonde is practically cringing under her gaze. When Clarke makes one last attempt to shrug off her disapproving glare, lips about to turn up in an apologetic smile, Raven just shakes her head more firmly at her, grabbing her shoulders rather forcefully.

“Nope, Clarke, this is _not_ an option. We are getting drunk, and you’re going to be my beautiful, intelligent, _wonderful_ wingwoman so I can finally get laid, or so help me God, I will force beer down your throat through a funnel until you beg Mama Reyes for mercy!” she emphasizes every word with a jab of her finger against Clarke’s chest, and Clarke can’t help but break. 

“All right, all right! I’ll help you get laid.” She sighs dramatically, and Raven grins at her, clapping her hands together in exaggerated joy. “But I’m not getting drunk! Only a couple of drinks for me tonight, I have to get up early tomorrow to go over the details of the new project I told you about earlier.”

 

Raven’s grin turns into a grumpy pout, and her arms flail in exasperation, almost smacking Clarke across the face in the process. 

“You seriously need to chill with the seriousness, Clarke. You’re killing my vibe!” she groans, but Clarke only chuckles and throws an arm around her shoulder, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. The brunette cringes, shoving halfheartedly at her shoulder to escape the onslaught of affection from her friend, but her grin is back and Clarke can’t help but ruffle her ponytail a little.

She leans over the bar to catch one of the bartenders’ attention, and soon they each have a new beer in hand and are heading over to the booth where the rest of their coworkers/friends are loudly (and drunkenly) making their presence known.

“Princess! We thought you’d bailed on us,” Bellamy shouts from where he’s crammed into the back of the booth, between Jasper and Finn. “I’m glad you didn’t!” He smirks at her.

Clarke barely manages to suppress her irritation, plastering on a somewhat friendly smile as she slides into the seat beside Raven. Monty grins at her over the top of his drink – probably hard liquor by the looks of his slightly disheveled state – and she smiles warmly at him, throwing him a kiss across the table. Much to Bellamy and Finn’s despair, he giggles and faux catches it in his hand, before moving to pat his cheek with it. In what was probably meant as a soft movement, though, he manages to completely miscalculate his soberness and slaps himself across the face instead. The table erupts into fitful laughter, Jasper slapping him roughly across the back, and the deep crimson blush that spreads across his cheeks is enough to confirm the suspicions Clarke has had over the past couple of months. _Oh, he’s in so deep_ , she thinks as she watches her black haired friend glance over at Jasper with what can only be classified as heart eyes.

“Yeah, sorry about that, guys. I got held up at work.” Clarke says when the laughter finally dies.

She doesn’t sound half as apologetic as she perhaps should, but the others don’t pay it any attention. They all know she’s deeply invested in her job, probably more so than the rest of them combined. Not to say they haven’t tried to convince her that taking a break every once in a while is good for her, she just can’t afford to get distracted when she’s trying to build a career for herself. And that means late hours at the office and early business phone calls, social life be damned. Oh, and sex life be damned too, regretfully.

God, Clarke misses sex. She _really_ misses sex. Her occasional (let’s be honest, they’re practically non-existent) attempts at hooking up usually end up unsuccessful or disappointing, and at some point over the past six months she’s just given up trying. 

She knows she’s attractive – Finn and Bellamy’s more than a few failed attempts at asking her out have proven that much - but she just can’t find a single shred of attraction for either of the floppy haired boys (in fact, she can’t even make herself think of them as fully grown men). She can’t seem to find any luck outside the workplace either, and it probably has to do with how opinionated and stuck up she comes off as. She’s independent and intelligent, and she’s proud as fuck for it, but as much as it hurts her pride to say it, it’s the only logical explanation she can come up with for the drought she’s found herself in lately. 

Well, that, and the fact that she doesn’t do one-night stands; it’s just not her thing. She needs to have an emotional connection with someone, or at least the beginning of one, before sleeping with them, and that opportunity rarely presents itself with how swamped with work she is. She tried dating for a while, mostly blind dates that Octavia or Raven set up for her, and occasionally she would venture into the well known lands of online dating, but to no avail. She’s single and horny, and picky and busy. What an exhausting combination.

“No worries, Clarkey, you’re here now!” Raven’s cheerful voice brings her back to the present, and she joins her friends in bringing their beers up to clink it against the others around the table through a chorus of cheers. Finn throws Clarke a floppy grin, and Clarke only just stops herself from gagging at him, but she knows she has to act civil, at least for the night. Her history with Finn isn’t something she wants to think about _at all_ , and so she forces herself to nod her acknowledgement at him, before taking a hearty gulp of her beer to stem off her irritation.

“Hey Rae, where’s Octavia? Didn’t she say she was bringing Lincoln tonight?” If she seems desperate for the distraction from Finn’s ogling, she doesn’t try to hide it one bit.

“Oh yeah, they’re over there” Raven points halfheartedly before launching into a heated conversation with Jasper about something Clarke can’t even bother to try to understand, only that it’s related to chemistry, and Clarke follows the direction of her finger to the corner booth across the bar. 

The lighting in the room is fairly dark, but she’s able to make out the towering figure of Lincoln across the room, and she lets her eyes travel across the rest of the occupants in the booth. She sees Octavia sitting beside Lincoln, animatedly talking to the woman across from her, and Clarke catches herself staring at the stranger for more than a few seconds. She’s gorgeous; all high cheekbones and fierce eyes, blonde hair pulled into a loose bun and leather jacket tight around her wide shoulders. She looks like she could kill a man with a single stare. _Damn_.

Clarke lets her eyes travel to the last occupant of the booth, and _Oh. Well, fuck me._

If the other girl was gorgeous, this one’s fucking _otherworldly._

She has the same set of high cheekbones as the girl next to her, a sharp jawline that could probably cut glass, and the regal slope of her nose is enough for Clarke’s fingers to itch for a pencil, a paintbrush, anything. Her lips are plump and rosy, _kissable, definitely kissable_ , and strong shoulders that slope into toned arms compliment her slender neck. Her thick, brown mane is held in place by intricate braids, and when Clarke finally lets her gaze travel to her eyes she freezes.

The girl is looking right back at her, piercing green eyes boring into hers with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine. The girl is smirking at her, and Clarke suddenly feels extremely flustered as those green eyes travel from her face and downwards. They fixate on her cleavage for several seconds, and when a pink tongue pokes out to lick at those plump lips Clarke almost falls out of her seat.

A sharp jab at her side has her throwing her head around instantly, and she scowls at Raven with an intensity she didn’t know she possessed.

“Whoa there, Griff, what’s got your panties in a bunch? I was just going to ask if you wanted to get another beer.” Raven puts her hands up in mock offence, smirking when Clarke blushes.

“What? Oh, yeah no, it’s nothing. Let’s go.” Clarke stumbles out of her seat, flushed and annoyed, and when she glances back at the corner booth across the room she finds the girl watching her with an amused smirk. She flushes even further, and quickly grabs Raven’s hand, dragging her over to the bar and ordering her beer with another scowl.

“Yo Clarke, seriously, is something wrong?” Raven has the decency to stop laughing at her, coming up to lean against her shoulder in a show of comfort.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Clarke huffs, not really mad as much as royally embarrassed. “It’s just… Who are those girls O and Lincoln are talking to?”

“Oh, them?” Raven answers, smirking as she lets her gaze wander to where their friends seem to be in deep conversation with the two strangers. “I don’t know, but I call dibs on blondie. She looks like she’d be good with her fingers.” Clarke scoffs and shoves her friend halfheartedly, but it only deepens the smirk on her friend’s face.

“What? I saw how you were staring at Miss Dominatrix over there! Do you need me to wing you, or are you going to contented with staying here and drooling like a creep?” She winks and quirks a knowing brow at Clarke, smirk cracking into a sly smile when Clarke gapes at her and flushes even further.

“Raven, what the fuck!”

“Alright, chill down Griff, I won’t pressure you into anything. But I’m telling you, that girl is into you. She’s been staring at you since you got here.”

Clarke frowns at that information, turning her head to look towards the corner booth again, and sure enough. The brunette goddess is staring right at her – or rather, her ass – and when her gaze flits up to meet Clarke’s she licks her lips again.

If Clarke were close enough she would be able to make out the dilated pupils that are slowly swallowing up the silvery green of the girl’s irises, but instead she breaks the gaze and quickly pays the bartender before grabbing her beer and making her way back to her table. The tingling sensation of the other girl’s eyes on her burns into her back the whole way over.

The state of intoxication amongst her friends seems to have increased tenfold, and Clarke struggles to keep up with their drunken conversations as the night evolves. At some point Raven gets enough liquid courage to stand up and make her way over to Lincoln and Octavia’s booth, and Clarke smirks to herself when the blonde stranger only seems mildly interested by her presence at first. She can feels the eyes of the brunette on her the whole time she sits there, unable to keep from glancing up to catch her staring, and the action leaves her flustered and feeling a little more than buzzed.

She’s about to either throw in the towel and call it a night or finally muster up the courage to go over there and talk to her, when the bartender turns off the music to gather everyone’s attention. It takes him more than a couple of minutes, but when the bar finally quiets down enough for him to be heard over the scuffling of chairs and clinking of glasses, he steps onto a barstool and shouts.

“Folks, I have some bad news! The news report just announced that the storm has evolved to the point where it’s no longer safe to go outside. We’re all going to have to stay put here until it calms down.” Groans and shouts of disbelief and annoyance ring through the room, but the bartender is quick to settle them. “I know, I know, I’m just as annoyed as you are, but sadly there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ve got food and water in addition to drinks over here at the bar, and from now on it’ll be at half price until we can all get home safely.” The last information is greeted with drunken cheers and salutes, and the bartender chuckles before hopping down and getting back to work.

Clarke is more than a little annoyed by the news; now she probably won’t be able to get any sleep before she has to go in to work tomorrow. _Just her damn luck, huh? Single and horny, picky and busy and stranded._

Just as she’s about to bang her head into the table in frustration, Raven skips back over to their table and plops down in the seat next to Clarke with a pleased smirk on her face.

“So, I’m guessing that went well?” Clarke enquires, leaning over to nudge her friend in the shoulder with a knowing smile.

“ _Fuck_ , Clarke, she’s _perfect_. She’s into cars and martial arts! Cars! And martial arts! Can you believe it?” Raven squeals, and Clarke grins as she watches her friend stare wistfully over at the corner booth. When the blonde chances a glance over there, she knows she shouldn’t be surprised by finding the brunette looking at her, but she still gulps when she does. The brunette is checking her out for sure, eyes gliding slowly over her features, stopping more than once at her eyes and her cleavage. Clarke feels herself flush, a tingling sensation starting in her stomach that quickly settles to an ache between her legs when the girl takes her plump bottom lip between her teeth.

Then suddenly the brunette is leaning over to the blonde beside her, mumbling something in her ear, before standing up and beginning to walk towards them. Clarke feels her pulse flutter increasingly with every step the brunette takes, her hands suddenly turning jittery and palms turning sweaty, and she hurriedly rubs them against her jeans – to prepare herself or distract herself, she’s not completely sure.

She can’t keep her eyes from roaming up and down the girl’s newly exposed legs as she approaches; her strong thighs and calves strain underneath her tight black jeans, and Clarke finds herself imagining what they look like naked, all tan, soft skin.

Before she realizes what’s happening the girl is by her side, but instead of stopping, she reaches out and runs a long, slender finger up Clarke’s arm slowly. The action sends a shiver all over Clarke’s skin, and she has to contain herself from actually shuddering full force. A second later the finger is gone, and Clarke turns around just in time to see the girl slipping through the door to the bathroom.

She whips around to find the whole table staring at her with gaping expressions (except for Bellamy and Finn, they’re more scowling than anything else), and suddenly her clammy hands are the least of her worries.

_Shit. Should she- that was definitely an invitation, right? Right? She should go in there. But what if it wasn’t? Fuck. What if she-_

“GRIFF! What the fuck are you waiting for!?” Clarke almost falls out of her seat with the force in which her body jolts, and she has to physically clamp her hand over her chest to force her erratic heartbeat and breathing to slow. Before she can say or do anything else she is being pulled out of her seat by Raven, and she only just catches herself from falling flat on her ass. Both Jasper and Monty burst into laughter, but just as she’s about to curse them off Raven is turning her around and shoving her towards the bathroom. 

“Go get her, tiger!”

She stumbles for a few steps before catching herself on shaky legs, and has to swallow several times before she manages to straighten herself. Fuck. Okay, Clarke. You can do this. The last few steps to the door are excruciatingly slow, and her hand trembles as she reaches for the door handle. _Please don’t be locked, please don’t be locked, please don’t be locked._ Her fingers wrap around the handle.  
_Oh god, please don’t tell me she forgot to lock the door and is actually peeing or somethi-_

The door handle clicks and jerks down, and the door slides open with a creak. Before Clarke can think any further of it, she slips inside and closes the door smoothly, locking it.

“I didn’t think you’d come”

Clarke has to shut her eyes at the voice. Fuck. _How can a voice be that sexy?_

She turns around slowly, letting her eyes flutter open to land on the girl leaning against the wall on the other side of the bathroom. She’s even more gorgeous in this light, one leg propped up against the wall and arms crossed over her chest, her features bathed in the soft yellow glow of the flickering light bulb above the sink. Clarke shoves her hands into her pockets to stop herself from reaching out to touch her.  
The bathroom isn’t big, but there’s enough space between them for Clarke to be able too see all of her.

“I’ve been watching you all night,” the girl murmurs, eyes gliding over Clarke’s features like a predator watching its prey. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Her eyebrow quirks, and _god, how are her eyebrows so perfect?_ Her lips twitch into an almost unnoticeable smirk, and Clarke feels the ache between her legs grow unmistakably.

When she realizes the girl is waiting for her to answer she swallows thickly and nods her head, unable to form a proper response. The girl’s smirk grows, and she pushes away from the door to take a tentative step towards Clarke.

It dawns on Clarke that she must seem terrified, with the way the girl is approaching her like any sudden movement might make her run for the hills. She steels herself and digs deep inside herself for the last sliver of confidence in her, standing straight before managing to rasp out “What’s your name?”

The girl looks shocked for a split second, like she wasn’t expecting any form of verbal communication from her at all, but her expression quickly turns neutral expect for that same tiny smirk. She takes another step towards Clarke, a little surer now, dominant even. Clarke’s hands come out of her pockets.

“Lexa. What’s yours?”

_Lexa. Lexa, Lexa, Lexa._

“I’m Clarke.”

The girl – Lexa – smiles at that, a sweet, tiny smile, and Clarke’s skin tingles as she traces those lips with her eyes.

“You know, Clarke…” Lexa starts, taking another step, and now there’s barely half a meter between them. “You are so fucking beautiful” 

She leans in to tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, and her touch washes over Clarke like molten lava. The air between them is thick with tension, sizzling and cracking with every ragged breath they take, and Clarke has never felt the urge to kiss someone this hard before. Her gaze falls to Lexa’s plump lips, and she feels herself drip into her underwear.

“All night,” Lexa whispers, green eyes flitting down to Clarke’s lips, “I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you.” She strokes a thumb across Clarke’s lower lip. “Touching you.”

Clarke whimpers. _Fuck._

Lexa takes another step, and then she’s pressed flush against Clarke, pressing her lightly against the door. She’s warm and soft - softer than Clarke would expect with all those lean muscles - and she subconsciously arches into the touch. Lexa ghosts her lips across Clarke’s cheek, breath warm as it washes over the blonde’s skin, and then leans in to graze her teeth against Clarke’s earlobe.

“Fucking you.”

Clarke surges forward faster than she can blink, crashing their lips together in heated desperation. Lexa reciprocates immediately, hands coming up to grasp Clarke’s hips firmly as she pushes her harder against the door. A moan breaks out between them as their hips grind together, and she tangles her fingers in Lexa’s thick curls and tugs hard. Lexa grins and licks into her mouth.

The wet glide of Lexa’s tongue against hers sends Clarke reeling, and her moan is deliciously filthy as the brunette’s hand slides up to cup her breast. Strong fingers knead her roughly through her shirt, and Clarke aches with the need to feel her on her skin. She tugs at Lexa’s hair, breaking the kiss with a sharp gasp as she arches her chest against her hand.

“Please” She croaks, voice rough and desperate, and Lexa’s smirk is infuriatingly sexy as she pulls back to stare at Clarke with hooded eyes.

“Please what, Clarke?” _Fuck. Fuck, fuckity fuck._

Instead of answering, Clarke brings her other hand back from where it’s been clutching Lexa’s shoulder in a vice grip, and roughly shoves her shirt and bra aside to reveal a stiff, aching nipple.

Lexa’s groan would bring a pleased smirk to Clarke’s lips if she weren’t so damn turned on, and she has to keep herself from screaming when she’s suddenly engulfed by a warm, wet mouth. Lexa laves her tongue against her nipple roughly before sucking on it, and Clarke gasps and feels a gush of wetness between her legs.

“Lexa – _Oh fuck_ ” Lexa fits a leg between hers and grinds into her, and the stimulation tears a groan from Clarke as she bucks her hips against the strong thigh. Her clit is throbbing, her underwear uncomfortably wet, and she has to refrain from shoving a hand down her pants and relieving some of the pressure.

“Lex- Lexa” she manages to tug the brunette away from her nipple long enough to catch her gaze, and it only takes them a split second of staring at each other before their lips crash together in another deliciously messy kiss. Lexa tastes like whisky and peppermint, and Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever tasted anything better.

She breaks away from the kiss for a second, gasping for air as Lexa moves to suck and nip on her neck. The thought of Lexa leaving possessive marks on her has her trembling and clenching, and she can’t stand not being touched for another second.

“Lexa, please”

“Please _what_ , Clarke?” Lexa pants against her neck. “You’ll have to use your words”

_Jesus fucking Christ._

“Please, Lexa, just... Just _fuck me_ ” Clarke doesn’t even care about how desperate she sounds, because she fucking _is_. She’s never ached so much to have someone touch her in her entire life, and she feels like she might implode.

Lexa growls and bites down on her neck while her slender fingers deftly work the button and zipper of Clarke’s pants. A second later her pants and underwear are tugged roughly down her legs, and then those slender fingers are _finally_ gliding through her slick folds, parting her and dipping into her wetness.

“God, Clarke, you’re so fucking wet” Lexa groans, tilting her head up to kiss Clarke as she strokes her clit. Clarke shudders and bucks against her hand, desperate for more friction. Lexa’s fingers slip down to her entrance, dipping just inside to tease her and gather more wetness, before moving back up to rub tight circles against the aching bud. Clarke cries out as sparks of pleasure shoot up her spine, and her knees buckle under her. Lexa steadies her easily, pressing her into the door more firmly, her other hand coming up grasp her thigh and pull it around her hip. The change of angle has Clarke silently crying out against her lips as she feels her clit throb and pulse under the increasing pressure of Lexa’s fingers.

“Please, Lexa, in-inside” she whimpers, chest heaving with the effort to force in enough air, and Lexa moans throatily against her lips. She heaves Clarke’s thigh further up her hip, grip tight enough to leave bruises, and then two of her fingers plunge into Clarke without warning.

“Oh, FUCK!” Clarke sobs, clenching and fluttering wildly around the long digits, and she can’t stop herself from bucking her hips, desperately trying to fuck herself on Lexa’s fingers. The brunette sets a quick pace, slick sounds filling the room as her hips thrust and her fingers pump into Clarke’s swollen cunt, and soon Clarke is teetering on the edge of coming.

“M-more, I need more,” she gasps, keening and arching as Lexa leans down to take her nipple into her mouth again. She scratches her nails desperately against Lexa’s scalp, and the brunette growls and bites down on the aching nipple. And then she slips another finger inside. 

The stretch is _exactly_ what Clarke needs, her spine arching and her whole body tensing as Lexa thrusts faster and harder into her. When she curls her fingers deep inside her and drags them firmly against her swollen front wall Clarke screams, a desperate, earth shattering scream ripped from her chest. Lexa presses her thumb firmly against her clit, and Clarke feels her eyes roll to the back of her head as she clenches and pulses around her fingers. 

Her body undulates violently with the force of her orgasm, white-hot heat surging through every fiber of her body as wave after wave of thick pleasure rolls over her. She’s vaguely aware of her slick arousal gushing over Lexa’s fingers as she keeps pumping into her, and she’s not sure if she’s screaming or not, but _holy shit_.

When Lexa finally slows her movements enough for Clarke to slump against the door she has a smug grin on her face, but Clarke can see right through to the unbridled lust in her gaze. There’s barely any green left in her eyes, her irises completely absorbed by her pupils, and she looks _wild_. Clarke pulses forcefully around her fingers, another gush of wetness seeping out around them, and Lexa’s hips jerk hard.

She pulls her fingers out of Clarke slowly, painstakingly, and Clarke whimpers at the loss of contact, but a second later she’s whimpering for a whole other reason, as Lexa brings her fingers up to her mouth and licks them clean. She closes her eyes reverently, like Clarke’s cum is the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted, and the breathy moan she releases along with her fingers is probably the sexiest thing Clarke has ever heard in her life.

With a surge of confidence she flips them around so Lexa is the one pressed against the door, and the action pulls a surprised gasp from the brunette.

“Shouldn’t we be heading out soon?” The question would offend Clarke if the tone of it weren’t so obviously joking, and Clarke only grins and pulls at Lexa’s hips as she dips forward to kiss her.

“There’s a snow storm, remember? We’ll be stuck here for a while.” She murmurs against the brunette’s mouth.

Lexa’s lips taste even better when she smiles, and Clarke is impressed with how fast she manages to unbutton Lexa’s pants.

“Good thing we’re stuck together, then,”


End file.
